The Plague (pray it take not thee)
by Metronome I Hear
Summary: There is a sickness in the air. No one is safe. Or: The collapse of an era, told through the eyes of a tired hero, a church boy, and a Hunter. No knowledge of Bloodborne necessary.
1. The Red Elixir

**Oh gods, what am I doing?**

 **Welcome to "The Plague (pray it take not thee)"! In other words, the monstrosity of a story my siblings managed to convince me to write that I have spent more than two months plotting out. This story is (for once in my fucking life) completely plotted out from start to finish, although I am not yet finished actually writing it. Updates will be sporadic (as people who follow just about any of my other stories will know) but hopefully fairly quick. Hopefully.**

 **(Don't get your hopes up.)**

 **Quick forward: As stated in the summery, no knowledge of Bloodborne is necessary to understand what is going on in this story. If I mess that up somehow, feel free to tell me and I will make an attempt to fix it. In addiction to this, fans of Bloodborne should keep in mind that Quirks have kind of thrown a wrench in things, and thus some things from the game will remain the same and other things will change.**

 **That being said, buckle up, because this is gonna be one hell of a ride.**

 **...**

 _Unknown Location, Europe_

A man holds a bottle of liquid to his chest, and bows where he is crouched. "Oh sweet, merciful-" he whispers, curing in upon himself. He begins to cry, first quiet tears and eventually great heaving sobs. "Aah!" he cries out, gripping the bottle tight to his chest, shaking his head as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Once," he whispers, reverently, "there was a city wrapped in a Dream-" He takes in a sudden breath and gets fluidly to his feet. He holds the bottle out in front of him-gently, carefully cradling it in his hands-as he turns towards the rest of the room. Around him, the rest of his team was kneeled, each whispering prayers under their breath.

They had been searching for this. For so long, they had been searching for this. For the remnants of that forgotten city-

For the source of all quirks.

…

 **CHAPTER 1**

 **The Red Elixir**

…

 _One Year Later - Musutafu, Japan_

People dressed in uniform rush about, talking to one another, answering calls, and making their way from one section of the building to another. Aizawa Shouta walks through it, well accustomed to the sounds of hustle and bustle within the police station after a villain attack. He hadn't been involved in either the main fight or the clean up afterwards, but there was an incident involving a villain with an explosive quirk not even two hours previous, and the police were still busy handling the aftermath.

He dodges around a woman carrying a pile of paperwork nearly a half a meter high, and spots Sansa pouring himself some coffee by the break station. Shouta makes his way over.

"Sansa," he greets, giving a nod of his head.

"Eraserhead." Sansa cradles his mug in his hand. It's pale blue and has a black paw print on it. Shouta has a similar one at home-a bright yellow one given to him by Hizashi as a gift two years ago. "What brings you to the station?"

"I'm looking for Tsukauchi," Shouta tells him. He scans the organized chaos of the room once more, to see if the man had slipped in at any point. "Have you seen him today?"

"Yeah. He's working on a case in his office. Seems like it's taking some strange turns. You know where it is?" Sansa waits until Shouta nods before taking a sip of his coffee. Shouta gives him his thanks before leaving the table and making his way to the elevator.

He has to dodge around another few harried people but he has the elevator to himself. He rides up to the right floor before making his way down the sparsely populated hall that leads to Tsukauchi's office. When he finally reaches the door, he knocks, and enters when he hears the call to come in.

"Ah, Eraserhead." Tsukauchi smiles tiredly up at him from his desk. There are dark circles under his eyes and his desk is covered with case notes and pictures of various people and scenes. One of them looks familiar. It's a picture taken two years previous of the very man Shouta had come to discuss today. "Take a seat. I take it you're here about Shiba Kazuya?"

"I am," Shouta answers. He walks into the room and slumps into the chair in front of Tsukauchi's desk. "I'd been told there have been some changes?"

"So there have…" Tsukauchi trails off, gazing at his desk, before he starts flipping through the papers. He pulls out a file with Shiba Kazuya written in neat kanji on the label. "Remember how Shiba was feverish when we found him?"

Shouta does. The man had been pale, shaking, and covered in sweat when Aizawa had come across him finishing up a robbery. He'd also been desperate and wild eyed. Aizawa had logically assumed drugs had probably been involved. "Yes. He was using something, right?"

"You'd be correct." Tsukauchi sighs, running a hand through his hair. He opens the file and flips through the ages until he reaches Shiba's medical file. "We found some bottles of Red Elixir on him, and traces in his bloodstream. Seems like that's what he was after in that apartment building. I already questioned the tenants, though, and no one there seemed to know anything about how the Red Elixir had come to be there. None of them lied, at least. At my best guess, it was simply where he stored his own stash."

Red Elixir. The miracle drug. So that's what the villain had been after? "The symptoms are from taking the elixir? Word is it has no side effects and is non-addictive." Shouta didn't know too much about the louded miracle drug, only that no one had been able to track down the source of it just yet, someone was passing it out like candy among the homeless, and it had since spread to other circles as well. Including Villain ones. Supposedly it could cure any illness, no matter how severe. Shouta had always thought it was too good to be true.

"Supposedly it is," Tsukauchi agrees with him. "But the man keeps begging for it. And he's not getting better either. We have him under medical watch because his fever has slowly been getting worse."

"Worse?" Shouta questions. "Has he been showing any other symptoms?"

Tsukauchi hesitates, but shakes his head. "No. Just some night terrors. They started five days ago, and haven't stopped. Whenever he wakes up he cries out to something. One of the guards we have on him asked what he was dreaming about and Shiba only responded with 'Blood.' When asked to elaborate, he only started asking for the Elixir again."

Blood? What did Shiba mean when he said he dreamt of blood? "Do you think there's a connection?"

"I don't know." Tsukauchi sighs and leans back in his chair, suddenly looking exhausted. "We're still not even sure what Red Elixir is made of, or what the side effects of it are. We have analysts working on it, but it seems like they're not making much progress. We do have a new lead to where it came from though-a pharmaceutical company based in Hosu. I don't have high hopes for it, though. It's a long shot at best."

Shouta frowns. "Anything about it I should know?"

Tsukauchi shook his head. "Nothing in particular. Nothing related to Shiba, at least." He frowned and pulled a notepad and a pen out of one of the drawers of his desk. "You should go visit him yourself. Here's the hospital address and the room number." He tore the paper off the pad after he was finished writing and held it over to Shouta.

Shouta reads over the address. The hospital wasn't too far from here, and he didn't have any more papers to grade today… He should be able to make a visit after this meeting was over. "I'll make a visit."

"Good. Let me know if you learn anything," Tsukauchi says. Shouta stands and shoves the address in his pocket. He gives Tsukauchi a nod in farewell and leaves the office.

...

Sansa catches him before he leaves the building. "Hey there. How was Detective Tsukauchi?"

"Tired," Shouta answers, thinking back. "Seemed frustrated."

Sansa nods. "Yes, he'd been like that for a while now. Doesn't want to stop and take a break from it, either. Some people are saying he's getting obsessed. Do me a favor and keep an eye on him? If you're involved with his case?"

"I'll try," Shouta agrees, because he can do that much. Sansa is a friend, regardless, and Shouta doesn't mind.

…

"He's been in a great deal of pain for the last few hours," Doctor Hattori tells him as they walk down the hall towards the room Shiba is being held in. In his hands he holds a tray of food for Shiba. "We're not quite sure why. As unusual as it may sound, he's the picture of health other than the traces of Elixir in his bloodstream. I can only assume he's having a bad reaction to the drug, or that this is some side effect we haven't seen until now."

"Have you tried talking to him recently?" Shouta asks, running the information through his head He doesn't like the feeling he gets from this situation. He feels like something is about to go wrong.

"He can speak well enough, but it's usually only to ask for the Elixir or complain. Barring when he wakes from his terrors."

They turn a corner and Shouta can see two police officers in uniform, standing outside the door to the room near the end of the hall. They straighten when they see the two coming towards them. "What does he say when he wakes?"

"Only that he dreams of blood." Hattori frowns, looking oddly disturbed. "He mutters in his sleep, too, but it's just nonsense words as far as any of us can tell."

Shouta frowns as well. "I see."

He comes to a stop in front of the observation window looking into the room. Beyond it, he can see Shiba on his hospital bed, moaning.

Shiba Kazuya was a rather average looking man. He was of average height, both his hair and his eyes were a dull reddish brown, and he didn't have any of the additions so many quirks afforded people these days. His quirk was a minor one that let him grow and retract his fingernails up to 10 cm. Dressed as he was in his hospital gown, groaning in fever and delirium, he seemed very little like the man Shouta had found, wild eyed and savage in his fighting style, clawing at his capture weapon when Shouta had wrapped it around him, vicious and desperate.

In the corner of his eyes, he watched Hattori and one of the Police men acting as a guard enter the room.

"Mr. Shiba? I have some food for you. Are you feeling up to eating something today?" Hattori asks, approaching the bed slowly, with a friendly smile on his face. He kept his body language open.

"Huurts," the man moans in response. "Give me the Elixir. Give me. I need it. Huurts."

"I understand, Mr. Shiba. Would you like me to get you some pain killers?" Hattori asks, setting down the tray on the bedside table.

"NO!" Shiba shouts, shaking his head violently. Then he settled and whimpered. "The Elixir. GEt me the Elixir. Please, doctor, the Elixir."

"You know I can't do that, Mr. Shiba. Would you like to eat something?" The doctor asks again.

Shiba growls, and the sound sends shivers up Shouta's spine. Shouta moves to the doorway, careful to keep out of sight of the villain so as to not set off a reaction if Shiba recognized him. "The Elixir. Get me the Elixir!" The heart rate monitor beeps faster, and Shiba's hands claw at the sheets.

"I need you to take a deep breath, Mr. Shiba. Can you do that for me?" Hattori asks. He holds his hands up in a calming gesture.

"Huurts…" The man moans in response, still clawing at the sheets. "Hurts so bad, Doctor. The Elixir, _please_."

Hattori sighs. He picks up the tray of food again, turning to leave the room. "I can't," he says.

Shiba suddenly leaps at Hattori, nails outstretched and sharp. "GIVE IT TO ME!" He screams in a warcry. Hattori drops the plate of food and it hits the floor with a clang.

Shouta moves to intercept, just as the policeman is moving in front of the doctor, and before Shiba can do anyone any harm, he's wrapped up in Shouta's capture weapon, arms bound to his side. One of his feet slip on the fallen food, and he goes to the floor as well. "GIVE IT!" He's still screaming, incoherent in his rage. "GIVE IT TO ME!"

"Dr. Hattori," Shouta says, walking into the room, his grip on his capture weapon tight. He doesn't move his gaze from the villain screaming on the floor. Shouta's quirk feels like a little light lightning in his veins. "Are you alright?"

"I-" Hattori breathes in and nods shakily, staring wide eyed at the villain on the floor before switching his gaze over to where Shouta stands, his hair flying around him. "Y-yes. I- um. Yes. I'm quite alright."

"Do you have something to sedate him with?" Shouta asks, because he can't hold the villain forever. Shiba struggles in his bindings, and Shouta can see the strain of the fabric against Shiba's body.

Hattori startles before nodding quickly once more. He leaves the room, supposedly to get the sedatives. "You two," Shouta addresses the police guard standing in the room as well as the one still guarding the door. "One of you, contact Tsukauchi. Tell him there's been a development and let him know what happened. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Shouta sees the guard in the room salute from the corner of his eye. He still doesn't take his gaze off of Shiba. The man has stopped screaming and is now crying incoherently on the floor.

"What a mess…" Shouta mutters to himself.

 **...**

 **I have a tumblr. Metronomeihear. Come scream at me. I welcome it.**


	2. The Church of the Hunter's Moon

"Hey, did you hear?" A girl whispers to her friend, laughing. "They say that weird church-you know, the one with the Chuunibyou name-split. Something about a fight?"

"Really? Aren't they like, a legal cult or something?" Her friend whispers back. "I heard they worship monsters."

The girl's smile grew. "Who knows," she says conspiratorially. "Maybe they do."

…

 **CHAPTER 2**

 **The Church of the Hunter's Moon**

…

There are fewer people in the classroom today.

That's not unusual. Recently, people have been getting sick. An out of season flu or something-Eijro isn't sure. He just knows that more and more people have been staying home instead of attending school, and the classroom feels emptier with every day that passes by.

He counts 13 people home sick today.

His mom was sick too. Was in bed, coughing nearly 24/7-a great, heaving sort of cough that wracks tremors up her body, like she was trying to cough up her lungs. She was feverish and sickly pale, the sun-kissed tan of her skin nearly vanished, and her fingers seemed fragile when he held her hands in his.

His dad was beside himself with worry. Eijiro was too. It was scary, so scary, to see someone you loved lying in the bed, weak enough they couldn't stand, but still finding the energy to smile at you. She always looked so tired when she did that. So, so tired.

But she fought on.

 _Mom is better now,_ he reminds himself, even if the method seemed dubious at best to him. _Mom is better now._

Maybe if he says it enough, he'll start to believe it.

The bell rings to signal the end to school, and Kirishima packs up his things, absently listening to Mr. Yusuke remind them about homework, and warning them to be careful on the way home. Clubs are canceled because of the increase in villain attacks, and they are being told to head straight home instead of wandering around. For their own safety of course.

Mr. Yusuke leaves, and Eijiro can already hear two of the dudes in his class-he thinks their names are Fujimura and Tanaka?-talking about how if they wander around enough, they might be lucky to see a hero versus villain attack in person.

Eijiro frowns but says nothing.

He has things to do anyways.

The walk home is a quiet one. A strange mood seems to have fallen over the city recently. Eijiro can only guess its the villain attacks, or that nasty flu virus that's going around, or maybe something else entirely, he didn't know. Either way, it meant that fewer people were on the streets than usual, and the train ride home was a, relatively, comfortable one.

He arrives before home. He stands in front of the house, uncertain for reasons he can't quite explain-only that there was this strange, twisting apprehension in his gut that told him something was _wrong_ -before marching up the path to the entrance, opening the door, and walking inside.

"I'm home!" It's a customary greeting.

"Welcome home, Eijiro!" It's his mom, and when he follows her voice to see her, he finds her seated on the living room couch, across from a man in white robes.

He knows this man.

"Mr. Nakamura?" Eijiro glances from his mom to the priest called Nakamura and back again. "What are you doing here?"

"Simply delivering a few things to your mother, young Eijiro." The priest smiles a kind smile, the same smile he wore when he delivered salvation to their desperate family. A cure, a miracle, given with prayer on his lips. _Believe in the the Good Hunter, and he will rescue you from your suffering,_ he promised, and Eijiro's dad had stumbled over himself in his haste to receive it.

"More medicine?" Eijiro questions, glancing at the little vials on the table, placed neatly in a box, each with their own labels on how to take it, when to take it, and such.

Nakamura nods. "As well as a few copies of our scripture. I'm ever so glad to hear that your family is willing to convert. The Church of the Hunter's Moon is always happy to receive more of the faithful. It is a blessing, truly, especially in these troubled times."

"Yes!" Eijiro's mom exclaims, clapping her hands together. "But it's a wonderful religion. And so generous as well. We truly couldn't thank you enough for what you've done for our family. Something as simple as this is the least we could do to give thanks to the Good Hunter. Isn't that right, Eijiro?"

Eijiro doesn't like the way his parents have been so quick to jump on board with this weird religion. Even if they paid for his mom's recovery, provided a cure when nothing else was working, it was-strange. Just strange. It makes him nervous.

But he's grateful, too. He doesn't like to think about it, but his mother was dying before this. And now she's up and walking around and laughing with them again-it was a miracle.

But the Good Hunter? What?

He doesn't say any of this, though, and hopes his thoughts don't show on his face. He forces a smile instead and nods in agreement, because-

She doesn't look so tired anymore. And that, he's found, is a very precious thing.

"Right."

Nakamura nods, still smiling. "That's wonderful to hear. I take it you'll be attending the ceremony tomorrow?"

"Of course!" Eijiro's mom says. "Haruto's taken a day off work so all three of us can attend. It'll be our first time going, so I want us all to be there."

Something twists in Eijiro's stomach. He still says nothing.

Later, when the priest has left and Eijiro's alone in his room, he stares at the book of scripture his mother gave him and wonders what the hell he's supposed to do. He looks up and sees his Crimson Riot poster on the wall and sighs.

"What would you do?" He asks the poster, feeling a little stupid doing so. He receives no response, of course, and flops back down on his bed.

"What would anyone do?" He asks the ceiling. It, too, does not respond to him.

He frowns, frustrated, and puts his hands in his hair rolling around on top of the sheets. "Aaaagh! Why is this to difficult?! It shouldn't be!"

There's a dull thump from when the book falls onto the ground, open on a page somewhere near the middle. Eijiro picks it back up, and glances over the pages it's landed on. There's a picture of a flower on one page, and text below that. A poem, he thinks, if a weirdly translated one. Apparently, the Hunter's Moon Church was founded in... he thinks it was in Britain? Maybe? Somewhere in western Europe, at least.

" _And so Flora, the moon, descended from the sky,_

 _In a field of white blossoms and an old tree,_

 _Where the corpses of the old hunters lay._ "

Eijiro wrinkles his nose. It gets weirder every time he reads it. He really doesn't understand why his parents are so taken with this.

…

The church building the Kirishima's arrive at for the ceremony is tall and dark, built with western architecture. Dark stone makes up its walls, and the windows are stained glass, depicting strange scenes from the book Eijiro was given yesterday. He wants to say it looks gothic, like something out of an anime like -man, and it looks almost out of place in the larger city around them.

The inside is lit with candles and the light shining through the glass puts pretty patterns on the white floor. Huge wooden beams arch over his head, and the hall in lined with benches. It looks like something you'd see in a Christian church, if not for the differences in the statues and the motifs in the glass. The scripture, too, is different. Or, at least, Eijiro thinks the bible doesn't have stories of rewinding towns, and immortals fighting monsters.

 _Yup,_ he thinks half way through the ceremony. _Probably not in the bible._

"-It was in this time of turmoil that the first Hunters stood up for the citizenry, giving them the weapons they needed to fight the scourge. So to must we stand up to support the bastions of hope of the modern day, when Heros stand as Hunters, striking down those who threaten the peace we live in-"

The people sure are enthusiastic, though. The preacher in front, an older man who wasn't Nakamura-Eijiro hadn't seen him yet-gestured ardently with his hands, and you could tell by the tone of his voice that he believed in what he was saying. The passion of his expression was-it got a lot of people caught up in it. The dude sitting next to Eijiro was actually struggling to hold back tears.

"-and so we must remember the Good Hunter, the last of those who fought against the dark, blessed by the moon, who rose up to take their place among the greatest of Heros-"

It was weird. So weird. Even with how passionate the preacher was-the dude next to him was sobbing now. Sobbing. The preacher hasn't even said anything all that profound. Just that the Hunter sacrificed himself to end the, what did they call it? Nightmare? And okay, that does sound pretty manly, but _seriously_.

Something was wrong here.

Eijiro glances to where both his parents sit, entranced.

Seriously wrong.

As the ceremony draws to a close, the preacher grows more solem. "Before we finish for the day, I'd like to speak about something important. There is a sickness in the air. I'm sure you've all heard of it? The virus going around.

"It has recently gotten out that the hospitals don't know how to treat it, or even manage its symptoms-" _Wait, what?_ You mean-that flu that his classmates have. The one they're staying home for-hospitals don't know how to treat it? "-but I would ask that you do not panic should you catch this illness, and to please keep in mind that the Church of the Hunter's Moon always has its doors open to those in need.

"That will be all."

With that, the ceremony was over.

 **...**

 **AN: I'm... not sure how I feel about this chapter? Mostly because it was odd writing Kirishima before he gets a lot of his confidence. It felt OOC, even though with the circumstances of Plague!Kirishima and the timeline, it makes sense to characterize him this way. IDK. It'll get better as the story progresses and he grows into both himself and his roll, though.**

 **I have a tumblr. Metronomeihear. Come scream with me.**


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